GYPoh Gets Drunk

by GYPoh

The idea of a party was first put forth by a colleague (for the sake of the story let's call him GoodGuy) who suggested a mini-gathering in celebration of the successful completion of our 1st year of work in a prestigious investment bank without screwing up. But this was GYPoh we were talking about. I don't do mini parties! So the wheels were set in motion and the slide to debauchery begin. Disaster was imminent.

For about 2 weeks before the party, GoodGuy and I were scouting around for a good place to hang out. We weren't having much luck in finding a spot that could accomodate a reservation for a party of 20. Then the Gods of Partying smiled on me and a friend managed to hook me up with the marketing manager of DXO. She gave me a guest list and we were in! News of the party soon spread and suddenly my guest list had ballooned to 40. GYPoh is the man!

Friday started out uneventfully enough. Same boring shite at work, same boring shite lunch. Lesser people would have gone into a depression. But I'm GYPoh. Nothing was going to get me down. After negotiating a day off on Monday with my boss, I hastily left the office and headed down to the Esplanade for dinner with my brothers.

GorY, Koburn and Repeat showed up first. Being the GYs that we are, naturally no one wanted to be the 1st to go get their order. Typical. 15 minutes later and still no food. The solution came in the form of GYeo. Latercomers had to get food! Problem solved! Edge turned up with HL and chicken wings and drinks were solved. GYPoh was happy again.

That was before retribution knocked on the door. For being the lazy asses that we were, Koburn got kuay teow on his glasses, GorY got oil on his shirt. GYPoh was still safe! Later did I realise just how wrong I was.

Around the 9 o'clock hour, guests started turning up in droves. My usual party goers were there.

The party kicked off quietly. A minor disagreement started with the waiter regarding the number bottles we were supposed to open before we could get our bloody mixers. Finally settled on 5 and we were cool. Repeat, being the social misfit that he is, of course couldn't be satisfied with Chivas and had to order beer. Hilarity ensures when the waiter doesn't even understand the concept of a 'pint' of beer. NTUC must some retard program going on when it comes to their employment policy. I suspect the waiter must have overheard some of our comments about his woefully inept servicing skills. But if he can't take a joke, fuck him.

It was turning out to be a slow night. My colleagues were sitting around making small talk as if it were some cosy cafe. GYPoh was disappointed. Then the marketing manager showed up (SY) and apologise for not greeting me at the door and making her retard waiter serve us. And comped us 2 beer towers. Woohoo! GYPoh is the man again!

After the 2 beer towers it was all downhill from there. The next couple of hours became a blur consisting memories of Repeat hounding me to play his game of 3-sec. In all my years of drinking I've never heard of a game as ridiculous as his game. All you had to do was pour liquor (in this case Chivas was our weapon of destruction) down your throat for 3 sec/5 sec/6 sec depending on your level of alcohol tolerance for NO FREAKING PARTICULAR REASON. You seriously had to be a retard to play his game. But nevertheless I played his shite game a number of times to get him off my back. A typical dialouge that occurred many times that night:

Repeat: Come on drink up. You 3 sec/5 sec/6 sec, I 3 sec/5 sec/6 sec.

GYPoh: What the fuck for?!

Repeat: Just do it! You can't escape!

GYPoh: Fuck you! Piss off! I've drunk more than my fair share!

Repeat: Just fucking do it!

(after this exchange there were 2 possible outcomes)

GYPoh: _!_ (and leaves the table/couch)

GYPoh: _!_ (and drinks up)

There was an incident that I recalled after looking at the pictures for the night. Some of my colleagues who idolised me (GYPoh is a drinking God) edged me to go french kiss the birthday girl. I didn't realise that it was somebody's birthday but decided to throw them a bone and do it anyway. Not sure if I really did it but looking at the picture the girl did seem rather excited...

The night progressed on with various brothers coming over with toasts to me. Of which I could only recall Fatboy being merciful as I begged for a momentary reprieve. Even GYling came over with a toast. Now GYling never drinks, and when he does, he doesn't really do it in front of his brothers. When he came over wanting to toast me, I remembered thinking 'Fucker probably just has coke in his glass'. GYPoh has a sharp mind even when he's high on Chivas. Naturally I did not drink with him.

Other incidents include the many shouting matches in the toilet consisting of the exact same conversation with Repeat as the one above (yes there's a reason why I call him Repeat). Also the interesting conversation I had with Gorilla in the uni-sex toilet.

Gorilla: Are you coming out? The rest are asking for you.

GYPoh: Get out!!

Gorilla: But are you coming out soon?

GYPoh: Get out!! Just get out!!

Gorilla: Ok but the rest are waiting.

GYPoh: Just fucking get out! I don't want to talk to you!

Gorilla: So you coming out?

GYPoh: Get the fuck out!!

When I was vomitting my dinner out in the toilet, as Fatboy is my witness, I did not:

1. Hold the toilet bowl as if it were my lover whilst vomitting violently into it
2. Lock the freaking cubicle door and refused to open it resulting in my friends having to crank it open using a set of keys

Sometime after the vomitting incident and a couple more shots of Chivas later, I stumbled out of the club (note: GYPoh managed this on his own without help). The waves of nausea came again outside and the remains of my dinner soon greeted me once again. To my credit I managed to eat an oyster omelette and hold a normal conversation with Repeat, Fatboy, Edge and GorY. In our elevated state of artificial high we thought it would be funny to call up Loo and get him back here. Of course that was before we found out he had sent 2 ladies back home who were NONE OF HIS GOD-DAMN BUSINESS. A good roasting given to him for being such a softie and SNAG naturally ensured.

There is something I must add. During the entire course of the night, GoodGuy kept smsing me his various stages of drunkedness. I have no idea what compelled him to do so but him being the stand-up guy that he is, my typical reply of '_!_ you' was put on hold and all his questions dutifully answered to the best of my abilities.

I've no idea how I actually made it in bed but I've been told it was at the courtesy of 1 of my angels present that night. GYPoh is eternally grateful.

Up at 10 the next morning, I discovered that only thing that was wrong with me was my burning desire for food. Probably due to the unfortunate incidents of me puking my dinner out the previous night. I was puzzled at the lack of a massive headache. But I'm not one to complain (when I'm sober).

Another successful night of partying. I suspect Chivas and I have developed a deeper understanding of each other. All bow down to the King! GYPoh rules!